


REO-effing-Speedwagon

by GiGiS89



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Mild Language, One Shot Song Challenge, spoilers s12xe5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 02:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiGiS89/pseuds/GiGiS89
Summary: For the J2 Jukebox (on Livejournal) musical prompt:Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon– Sam/Dean– The Impala's radio gets cursed, and now it only plays songs that reflect exactly what Dean's feeling at the moment. Awkward. And now Sam's wondering why they've started riding around in silence.





	REO-effing-Speedwagon

**Author's Note:**

> No beta. All mistakes are my own. I don't own Supernatural or any of the songs used in this fill.

They’ve killed the witch. They’ve burned the outdoor altar and started a minor forest fire. Thankfully, nothing that couldn’t be handled by the fire extinguisher Dean insisted they start carrying . Sam douses the last of the flames, glancing over his shoulder at Dean. Sam knows, from the smug look on Dean’s face, that there will be no end to Dean’s self congratulations. It’ll be the whole killing Hitler bullshit all over again.

 

Sam heads back to the Impala, opens the trunk, sets the extinguisher inside and then slams the lid shut. Noticing Dean isn’t in the front seat, he looks back to altar site and catches Dean giving the head warlock one final kick.  JesusHChrist.

“Come on, Dean! Let’s get out of here!” Sam demands. Already the sun is creeping into the sky. The last thing they need to do is get caught out here.

Dean gives the body a hard shove with his boot-his brother is ridiculous- and heads back to the car.

“You good now?” Sam teases.

Dean grins and smacks the roof of the car. “Let’s roll, Sammy.”

Dean turns on the ignition and the radio roars to life, blaring Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing”.

 

_Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did_

_Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid_

_I'm still standing after all this time_

 

Dean shoots Sam a surprised look and laughs. Sam gets it. The song is kind of perfect. Dean picks up the refrain, singing at the top of his lungs. He’s terrible, but is having such a good time, Sam can’t help but smile. It’s been a long time since he’s seen Dean act this light-hearted.

 

The song nearly over, Dean starts searching for another station and that’s when it becomes clear something is terribly wrong. Every station is playing the same song. Dean attempts to turn off the radio. Nothing happens. His brows furrow in annoyance and the song instantly ends and hard, pulsing death metal fills the car.

 

_Such a hurtful sight_

_The call is made_

_It's one for all_

_Take no prisoners_

_Over the top over the top_

_Right now it's killing time_

_Over the top over the top_

_Right now it's killing time_

 

The volume ratchets higher, louder than should be possible. The bass rattling the windows.

Sam covers his ears and shouts for his brother. “Dean!”

Dean attempts to turn down the volume. Nothing happens.

“What the fuck, Sam?” Dean yells over the song.

Sam doesn’t get a chance to respond. Dean’s expression slackens as blind anger yields to understanding. Dean gasps then curses. “Fucking witches!”

Sam tries. He sincerely does, but can’t not laugh at Dean’s look of utter horror.

The death metal shifts abruptly to into a sickly sweet 50’s melody.

 

_I'm sorry, so sorry_

_Please accept my apology_

 

“It’s not fucking funny, Sam! They cursed Baby!”

Sam tries to stifle his laughter and fails. Dean glowers at him.

“What?” Sam manages to ask between bursts of laughter.

Dean glares angrily at him. “I’ll show you what,” he mutters over Brenda Lee’s plaintive crooning.

 

The song ends abruptly and another begins

_I knew a girl named Nikki I guess you could say she was a sex fiend,_

_I met her in a hotel lobby masturbating with a magazine,_

 

Dean wiggles his eyes lasciviously and winks at him. Sam’s laughter sputters to a stop. “Oh, fuck.” He grumbles as he puts two and two together. The songs are all a reflection of whatever Dean is feeling and right now, it seems, he’s feeling like being an asshole. Sam groans. Wherever this is going, it’s not good.

 

Sam endures a barrage of sex themed songs for nearly an hour. Some are playful. Some are hilarious. Some make him deeply uncomfortable, reflecting too closely some of the very things he’s thought about the person sitting next to him. Dean is more than happy to make him squirm. It’d be endearing, if it wasn’t so fucking annoying. But he goes along, happy to see Dean happy. Sam can endure his brother’s ribbing if it means getting to see Dean so relaxed.

 

Sam sinks further into his seat and rolls his eyes when “Relax” comes on. Dean bursts out in laughter. Instantly the songs ends and another song, an instrumental that makes Sam think of slow dancing on the beach, comes on. Surprised, Sam looks over at his brother. Dean has his left elbow propped on the window ledge, his left hand rests loosely atop the steering wheel. His body is relaxed in a way Sam hasn’t seen ages. The sun dapples his face and a small, satisfied smile graces his lips and god, his brother is beautiful.

 

Sam is still staring, when Dean looks over at him a soft, forlorn expression crossing his face. The song comes to a screeching halt, as if someone knocked the needle of a turntable across a record and another, much more familiar, song begins.

 

_I tell myself that I can't hold out forever_

_I said there is no reason for my fear_

_'Cause I feel so secure when we're together_

_You give my life direction_

_You make everything so clear_

_And even as I wander_

_I'm keeping you in sight_

_You're a candle in the window_

_On a cold, dark winter's night_

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might_

_And I can't fight this feeling anymore_

 

The car swerves violently onto the shoulder and comes to an abrupt halt, sending Sam flying forward into the dash. Sam barks out a complaint, but Dean has already slammed the still running car into park and exited the vehicle. The radio goes silent the moment he does.

 

Sam gets out, slamming his door with more force than is necessary. This would normally elicit all kinds of admonishments from his brother, but Dean doesn’t say a word. Sam walks around to Dean’s side.

Dean is leaning against the car, facing the street.  His arms are crossed tightly across his chest. He’s boring a hole in the asphalt with his angry stare.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam demands, but gets no response.

“Hey,” Sam grabs Dean’s forearm, but Dean shakes him off.

“I just need a goddamn minute, okay?”

Sam is dumbfounded by the 360 degree turn around in Dean’s mood.

 

They stand there for several minutes before Dean takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. He tells Sam he’s tired and that Sam should drive. Sam doesn’t know what the hell is happening. Dean rarely asks him to drive. He’s nearly driven off the road, on more than one occasion, rather than asking Sam to take the wheel.

 

Dean stalks away and slips into the passenger side seat before Sam can even get a word out. He scrunches down into the seat, his body angled towards the door and closes his eyes, as if to sleep. Sam shakes head, confused by the entire exchange and gets into the car.

 

Sam guides the car back onto the empty roadway.

“Dean?”

His brother ignores him.

“I know you’re not sleeping.”

Dean doesn’t respond.

They drive in awkward silence for nearly ten minutes before it dawns on Sam that it is, in fact, silent. He turns the dial on the radio, nothing, not even static.

 

Sam glances at Dean, who looks anything but relaxed. His face is a hard mask of concentration. It occurs to Sam that Dean is wilfully thinking, feeling nothing. But, why?

 

Sure, Baby’s cursed and Dean’s clearly not happy about it. Though after his initial angry outburst, he’s mostly had fun with it. Right up until REO Speedwagon started playing on the radio. Sam considers what that could mean. Is Dean embarrassed about actually knowing a REO Speedwagon song? That’d be stupid. They’ve spent a lifetime in the car, listening to everything from country to pop to hard rock. Of course, they know REO Speedwagon and they know that song. Who the hell doesn’t?

 

Another twenty miles go by and the silence is starting to wear thin. It’s oppressive. Sam glances over at Dean. Sweat is beginning to bead on Dean’s brow. He looks pained. His eyes are squeezed shut.

“Dean, man. Come on. What are you doing?”

Static breaks over the radio, behind it Sam can make out the garbled lyrics of that same song. Dean takes another deep breath and the radio goes silent again.

 

Fine, Sam thinks. He’s a smart guy. He can figure it out on his own.

  1. The car is cursed. Which is maybe a sign that they need to begin utilizing the Men of Letters archives. There are entire sections on spell craft. It’d be good if they had the knowledge to fight back.



Sam shakes his head. _Stay on task_ , he reminds himself.

     2. The car seems to play music directly related to what Dean is feeling.  
     3. Dean wasn’t bothered by this until REO Speedwagon came on the radio.

 

Sam digs his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and pulls up the internet browser. He’s grateful Dean is concentrating too hard on whatever to notice.

 

One eye on the road and another on his phone, he punches up the song and taps a link to the lyrics. He skims them quickly, catching only pieces of the lyrics, as he tries not to drive them off the road.

 

_Oh, I can't fight this feeling any longer_

_And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow_

 

_I tell myself that I can't hold out forever_

_I said there is no reason for my fear_

 

_I've forgotten what I started fighting for_

_And if I have to crawl upon the floor_

_Come crashing through your door_

_Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore_

 

And okay, it’s a love song...which makes no sense...except that little voice in the back of Sam’s head-the one he’s been smothering since he was fifteen-thinks it makes all the damn sense in the world. They tiny voice roars triumphantly, “I KNEW IT!” Sam’s whole body flushes with heat at the prospect that his suspicion might be even remotely correct.

 

The insistent blaring of a car horn snaps Sam out of his reverie. Too focused on his phone and not enough on his driving, he’s drifted into the other lane.

 

He yanks the wheel and over-corrects. Baby’s wheel dig into the shoulder then get back onto the tarmac.

“What the hell, Sam?” Dean grouses. The car fills with the sound of 60’s doo-wop.

 

_Let's get something straight_

_There's one thing you don't touch_

_Keep your hands (keep your hands) off my baby_

 

“Pull over,” Dean orders and Sam does.

 

For a time, they just sit there, Little Eva in the background until Sam decides he can’t take it anymore. He has to know what it means.

“Dean,” he grabs Dean’s hand and holds onto it tightly when Dean tries to pull away.

Little Eva fades away and a new song fills the car.

 

_You'll never know how much I really love you_

_You'll never know how much I really care_

_Listen do you want to know a secret_

_Do you promise not to tell woh woh woh closer_

_Let me whisper in your ear_

_Say the words you long to hear_

 

Sam KNOWS this song and now he knows Dean’s secret and he owes it all to REO-effing-Speedwagon.


End file.
